


War of Roses

by Walor



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Slade is Impatient, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25102129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walor/pseuds/Walor
Summary: You only live once, except in Talia's case it's more like you only live once before you are reborn again. Slade's curious, but maybe selecting his on-again-off-again partner wasn't the best idea.
Relationships: Talia al Ghul/Slade Wilson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	War of Roses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Delanoble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delanoble/gifts).



It’s quite fascinating, actually. He’s never gotten a rather exceptional look at the ceiling before. The intricate patterns of gold-leaf mixed emerald paint that spiral across the stone remind him slightly of Japanese art from the early Edo era. Rather odd he would find it here, in Khadym, but supposing Ra’s is as worldly a man as he claims it shouldn’t be. His obsession with world history and art would likely have carried over to his daughter, along with the entire ease of conversing with dangerous men. Like him, if he were to call himself “dangerous.”   
  
It’s far too simple a term, truthfully.    
  
“I did not realize I was boring you. Is it the night’s planned activities you find uneventful or should I take this disinterest personally?”   
  
Slade quirks a brow. Looking down from the ceiling he meets Talia’s bemused green eyes. She’s looking over her shoulder, dark hair slipping down her back almost liquid-like. There’s a little hint of a smirk on her plush mouth, but it’s hidden in the shadows of her dark room. Khadym is without electricity save for the sublevels underneath numerous miles of dirt and sand. A lot easier to hide a compound for an international league base in the middle of the desert without too many unnecessary electronics to draw attention to it. Especially with one enormous orbiting satellite watching their every move, branded with a giant black W.    
  
Candlelight looks much better on Talia anyway. “Who says I’m bored?”    
  
“You have been sitting there in silence. Strange for a man so keen on  _ talking.”  _ There it is again. That little tease of smugness. She’s turned away from him now, so he can’t see her face. He knows her voice well enough, the quiet little change in the pitch of her tone. The way her accent gets smoother, more noticeable when she finds something absurd.    
  
Slade huffs. “Maybe it’s because I’m finding your company too inhospitable. Why don’t you come closer.”   
  
“I will, when I am finished.”   
  
If he were any less of a gentleman he would consider dragging her away from her little errand. As it stands, he is extremely “un-gentleman” like and would do so if he had the ability to. Right now, ironically enough, he does not. Probably due to Talia’s lovely ability to think far ahead.    
  
“I can break out of these cuffs you know. You keep standing there, like a tease and I’ll take care of what I need.”   
  
“I would find that incredibly remarkable,” Talia looks over her shoulder again. Slade watches her eyes slowly travel up the length of his body before they land on his face. “Considering the collar around your throat.”   
  
“I don’t need regeneration to slip out of these chains, sweetheart. Nor do I need strength, metahuman or not.”   
  
“You do know the longer you distract me, the longer it will take for me to finish. Or are you so desperate to get out of this, you think I will let you talk me out of this?” Talia smiles at him. It’s soft, giving just a hint of her perfect teeth. To top it all of, she bites the tip of her tongue, and smiles a little wider. Another quiet laugh leaving her mouth before she turns back to the table. “I am nearly done.”   
  
Nearly done. Slade is “nearly” done. Was this his idea? He doesn’t remember if it was, or if it was dragged out of his mouth by a lot of alcohol and Billy being a damn provocateur. As much as he remembers of that night that spawned the conversation that led to this single moment, he can’t seem to pinpoint at what point he decided to start spilling unspoken wants to a woman he saw on occasion. Of course, he could have not shown up at all, the moment sobriety slapped him in the head the next morning. But that would make him spineless and, more secretly, would have denied him an experience he had never quite had the courage to bring up before.    
  
And isn’t that a sentence to say? Slade Wilson, not having courage. The idea is as ridiculous as his embarrassment now.   
  
Not that his current situation is anything objectively humiliating. He is in Talia’s room, expansive and large with a king-sized bed decorated with colorful pillows on an embroidered, violet blanket. His arms are cuffed to the carved bed frame, of course, but they are propped up by pillows. The chain that connects the cuffs is loose enough that if Slade found it necessary to stare at the calluses on his hands he could drag them down far enough. Likewise, the collar with it’s nullifying properties sits comfortably on his shoulders with more than enough room for Talia to slip two, slim fingers between.   
  
The collar was his idea. Inebriated Slade’s idea, mostly, Talia, apparently charmed by his insistence, made sure to have one fitting his description by the evening of their arranged “meeting.” Billy had given him too much to drink. Talia had been the first person he called. Slade’s priority list is shocking. More so that Talia came before Billy in regards to seeking answers to desires he had never acted upon but always harbored. However, when it comes to someone guarding a secret, he supposes the daughter of a man who led a secret community for centuries in Nepal and India, made sense. Also Talia was an attractive young woman and Slade is a bad, bad man.    
  
“You know I’m not one for foreplay,” Slade says idly, tugging the chains around his wrists. “Do you think that’s changed?”   
  
“If this is your idea of foreplay, beloved, I can see why you would detest it so.”    
  
There’s a soft hitch in her voice. The flickering of the candles nearby almost drowns it out. It’s a slight wet-gasp followed by a subtle slick noise. His throat goes dry, and a rumbling growl leaves his throat.   
  
“Turn around.”   
  
A light laugh, more breathless than before. “And bore you with foreplay? I do not think so.”   
  
“I said I didn’t like to  _ do  _ foreplay, not that I don’t like to  _ watch  _ it. If I’m going to lie here I would like a show. Tit for tat, sweetheart.”   
  
Talia huffs, loud and dramatic with a steadier tone of voice. Underneath it all, Slade hears the slick noises grow increasingly faster and, despite being bathed in shadow, sees Talia’s shoulders tremble slightly. The candlelight only extends a foot past the end of the bed illuminating the start of an old Persian rug. There are no windows this deep within the compound, and traveling anywhere without a light source would be impossible to navigate. He can only see a portion of Talia from her single candle, too dim to make out the entirety of her person. So Slade has had to rely on his imagination for what she’s found so pressing to finish.    
  
“I am nearly ready. Then I will let you see. You told me, very sweetly, how much you have wanted to be denied. I am giving it to you. Do not be so impatient.” By the trail end of her sentence, Talia folds in on herself slightly. One arm reaches out to grip the table where her candle sits, hair dripping down her shoulder to fall in front of her face. A sharp intake of breath comes and is quickly followed by a soft, stuttering whine. He can see her perfect nails dig into the wood, and the straining line of her arm muscles as she pants through her errand.    
  
Slade should mention that his cock has been leaking against his stomach since he first sat on her bed. He’s also bare as the day he was born. It’s not as vulnerable as he thought it would feel, unfortunately, the collar and cuffs help partially.    
  
What really makes him feel exposed and slightly defenseless, just enough to help set Talia’s scene, is her genuine sincerity of how unafraid she is of taunting him. Not many people can do that.    
  
Her voice catches suddenly, louder and sharper than before. Her forced exhale snuffs out the single flame she’s used to aid her. All at once she’s consumed in shadows, her voice slowly fading with it until there is only silence. He strains his ears to listen, but no sound comes.    
  
“Talia,” he says. No answer. Not even the quiet sound of feet on stone.    
  
Not entirely strange. Talia is, above all else, an assassin.    
  
Slade shifts on the bed, chains clinking together and hitting the wooden bedframe. It would be easy to yank his hands forward and tear through the wood it’s wrapped around. Patience, she told him to be patient. He can wait.    
  
A soft laugh finally comes after another two minutes from behind him. A hand slips from the darkness behind his head, creeping down his shoulder and chest before it comes to a rest right below the rise of his pec. Dainty fingers, nails painted black, trace little circles through his coarse hair, occasionally swiping over a nipple. It’s enough to get his cock to twitch for attention, weeping from continued denial. He sucks in a harsh breath when those two fingers close around the bud and pinch.    
  
“Talia.”   
  
“Shh,” she coos behind him. She presses down a little harder against his chest, right before he feels a puff of warm air against his ear. “I am almost done enjoying myself. I like watching you squirm, I never imagined that you could be so shy. It’s charming.”   
  
The faint press of lips across the shell of his ear nearly does him in. Clenching his hands into tight fists, he breathes out slowly, closing his one good eye. “If you want this night to go the way we talked about, you need to get to it. I am warning you politely, I don’t want to put all your  _ hard work  _ to waste.”   
  
A soft sigh. The hand on his chest slips back, nails dragging across hard enough to leave red lines in their wake. “We will work on this. But I suppose I have made you wait long enough.”   
  
This time Slade hears her bare feet step across the stone. Deliberate, even if it is quiet, just so he can track her as she steps around the bed back into his eyeline, slipping out of the shadows and into the light. He opens his eye to see her. The sight doesn’t disappoint.    
  
Talia’s beautiful, of course. Nude it’s even more noticeable just how annoyingly pretty she is. Skin unmarked though naturally cut with muscle, Slade doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of seeing her this way. It’s quite incredible, actually, that someone like Talia could come from a man like Ra’s. Though, he supposes, most of her beauty must come from her mother (despite knowing that Ra’s, as much as he denies, does possess a degree of almost supernatural handsomeness). His eye, however, lands on her lower half.    
  
Strapped around her perfect hips, just tight enough to remain fixed in place, is her harness. It’s a dark green, gold buckles attached every here and there, wrapped around the tops of her thighs and the shape of a belt around her waist. It’s dyed leather, that much Slade can tell from the thickness of the material, and Talia’s preferences for something long-lasting (and less environmentally harmful, gag).   
  
At the center of the harness is the obscene shape of a dildo. It’s dark, most likely the same color as the harness, and that’s the only thing about it that’s abnormal. The rest of it is strikingly realistic. Slade can see the rise of faux veins along its length in the candlelight, silicone cockhead quite obviously circumcised. He huffs a laugh under his breath, watching it bob between her legs as she moves towards the bed. The cock glimmers with a slick sheen beneath the light.   
  
“Rather large, don’t you think?” Slade stares at her as she steps towards the bed. She places her hands on the blanket and pulls herself up. A soft grunt leaving her mouth, eyebrows pinching together. “Is it-”   
  
“Yes, I just need a second,” Talia settles on the bed. One hand finds Slade’s knee and uses it to stabilize herself. She lets her legs fall open slightly, plastic cock bouncing as she does. Her chest rises and falls quickly as she starts to pant, trembling all over. Slade flicks his gaze down where her cunt would be, hidden beneath the base where the toy cock now rests. Imagine how it must look, fluttering and clenching around the other side of the toy. Slade chuckles.    
  
“A little too big for you,  _ sweetheart?”  _   
  
Talia purses her lips. Her free hand moves lower, brushing against the top of the harness before falling away to clutch at the blanket. “No. It’s just walking around, that’s all.”   
  
“Of course not, it’s not like you haven’t called it  _ big, too big,  _ before,” Slade smirks when Talia slaps his knee, sitting back and finally managing to calm herself down enough to crawl forward.   
  
“I am starting to regret the choice of mold,” Talia settles on her knees between Slade’s thighs, pushing her hair back behind her ears. “I thought it would be funny to take you with your own cock.”   
  
“So you made one for yourself, as well? Greedy girl.”   
  
“Considering how you barely manage to get anyone off with it, I thought it a waste of a perfectly nice prick.” Talia drops a hand, taking Slade’s painful cock in clever, but soft fingers. Stroking it slowly, she sighs. “Besides, I am not doing this without something in return. If you are going to have the enjoyment of a climax so will I.”   
  
“I wouldn’t dream of denying you that,” Slade’s breath catches, Talia’s thumb sliding over the head of his cock, gathering the few beads of precum. “I would hate to be deprived of the sound you make when you do.”   
  
“Salacious bastard.”   
  
Slade rolls his good eye, lazy smirk drawing across his mouth. Talia drops her gaze down to her hand. She works her slim fingers over the length of him, dragging a pointed nail over the prominent veins, occasionally cupping his swollen balls. He’s quiet, as she works, the only sound between them is the rare grunt from himself or little keen from Talia when she shifts too fast on her knees. Her fingers glimmer in the dim light, wet with precum and the remnant of what might be lube. The plastic cock sways with every shift of her hips, heavy and intimidating.   
  
Never seen his cock from this angle before. It’s quite enchanting, in a sense that Slade’s curiosity of how exactly something like that is meant to go inside someone. His own throat tightens when Talia draws her hand away, bringing it to her mouth. She slips one finger inside, hooded eyes meeting Slade’s as she hollows her cheeks and  _ sucks.  _ _  
_ _  
_ He growls. “Enough playing. Hurry up.”   
  
Talia drags the finger from her mouth with a wet pop. “I have not prepared you.”   
  
“I don’t want to be. I want you to do what I asked.” As a threat, Slade pulls at the chains, until a muted creak echoes off the stone walls. “Or there’s going to be a change in the event listing.”   
  
“Demanding,” Talia drops her hand, wiping off the rest of the mess on her toned stomach. “Then tell me what you want and I will do it.”   
  
“Didn’t we already discuss what I want?” Slade curls his lip slightly. “Do I have to go into detail of what I want again?”   
  
She hums, wrapping her hand around the strap-on, dragging her fingers up and down the underside. “I would be satisfied with two simple words.”   
  
“I don’t think so.”   
  
“For someone who begged me for help in experimenting with their unspoken desires, you are being a right brat about it.” Talia drops her hand. “I can leave right now if I do not hear those two pretty words. And you will get nothing, save for an amount of time wasted, lying on a bed in the dark. Your choice.”   
  
Gritting his teeth, Slade tries very hard not to swallow his tongue. It had been so easy to say such things when he was alone, separated by hundreds of miles and an ample amount of bourbon drowning out a large amount of arrogance. It would be so much easier if there were a woman with a more demure personality, and a proclivity to bend at the slightest hint of rebuttal. Of course, Slade knows no woman like that. He tends to favor those who possess a brashness that surpasses his own rather large ego. No matter how well-hidden it might be.    
  
Talia clicks her tongue. Slade’s cock drools against his stomach and he snarls.    
  
“Fuck  _ me.” _   
  
She smiles, cat-like. “Good boy.”   
  
Talia’s hands are hotter than ever against the lower portion of his legs. The pads of her fingertips burn, digging into his skin as she pulls it apart ever so slightly. To help, Slade brings his legs up, planting his feet against the bed and tilting his hips back. Talia purrs, flicking her green eyes up at him, dark and foggy from lust. As requested she doesn’t tease his hole, nor does she slip a finger in as a precursor. His grip on his embarrassment would not be able to withstand the following humiliation of being scissored apart. 

He has regeneration, whatever pain that comes will barely last as long as a gunshot or stab wound. As soon as the collar comes off that is. For the time being, he will have to deal with whatever unprepared pain comes.

That being said, the sharp pain and post-soreness is not an entirely unwelcome side effect. With the amount of detail Slade went into describing his desires to Talia, intoxicated or not, she has been very good at following the negotiated rules and stipulations of this affair. Despite his annoyance at her stalling before, she is an extremely considerate partner.

“I wish I had a mirror. Next time I will bring one to the bedside. So you can watch yourself be taken by your own cock. There is something deliciously humiliating about it.” Talia’s breathing gets a little faster, her voice pitching higher. “You do not know how it feels to be in control of a man like you.”

“I can hazard a guess,” he rumbles, mouth curling into a light smile as Talia shifts closer. “Don’t get soft now.” 

“That you do not have to worry about.”   
  
The first touch of the cock against his hole is startling. It’s cold, in contrast to Talia’s hot touch, the slide of the lube offsetting. It’s enough to draw a grunt from his mouth, but he keeps still when Talia gives him a questioning glance. “I’m fine.”   
  
“If you are certain,” Talia trails off, waiting for him to say more. He doesn’t, the cool feeling of the lube quickly warming up the longer it stays in contact with his skin. She searches his face for a moment longer until his silence satisfies her. Tilting her hips, she slowly presses in.   
  
For a moment, the only sensation that washes over him is the coolness of the stretch. The toy lube makes the spread easy enough, despite the initial tightness. Slade is not a “virgin” here, but the amount of time between now and the last is around twenty or so years. Likewise, two fingers is a lot different than an entire cock, silicone or not. If he’s being honest, he thinks he does rather well for the initial breach of it. Breathes slowly through his nose and keeps his muscles relaxed. The all-encompassing feel of being fucked stays below his waist, and his painful arousal keeps his focus from narrowing in on one thing.    
  
Which is when the head finally pops inside and Slade curses.    
  
“ _ Fuck,  _ rr- _ damn it.” _ _  
_ _  
_ “I told you it was a lot.”   
  
A lot, for fuck’s sake, try  _ inescapable.  _ It takes less than half a second for the stretch to suddenly become almost unbearable, Slade has to fight not to grip the carved portions of the bedframe and yank himself back. He’s not going to shy away from the feeling of his own damn cock splitting him apart. This was a request from his own damn mouth. Head dropping back against the pillows, Slade keeps himself breathing slowly, not giving into the desperation to drag in fast, shallow breaths.    
  
Talia, as promised, is not gentle with him.    
  
Despite watching Slade trembling and grit his teeth from where he lies on the bed, she keeps pressing her hips forward. The only reason her pace is kept gradual is his body’s own resistance, trying to keep the insertion out. It didn’t seem so impossibly big when Slade looked at it between his thighs, only now that it’s stretching him apart does he realize just how ignorant that statement truly was. Scratching at the wooden frame Slade clenches his jaw and wheezes out a breath, the toy only seeming to grow wider with every inch it moves.    
  
“You are doing well,” Talia says, breathless herself. “You should see the way you look. Your cheeks are a pretty shade of pink.”   
  
“Ngh...How much, fuck, more is there?”   
  
“You are nearly halfway.”   
  
Slade slams his head back against the pillows. “Not even halfway?”   
  
“I told you it was a lot.”   
  
Maybe he would have responded with a little sarcastic comment of his own. Told her about not being a fan of repetition, or that she never seemed to make much of a fuss. That’s when the middle part of the toy, like his own cock obviously, the thickest portion slips inside the tight clench. Slade wheezes, it’s as if there is no room for his lungs anymore.  _ Breathe, dumbass, breathe. _ _  
_ _  
_ He tries, a soft little breath shaking as it leaves even as he forces himself to do it calmly. Cursing, Slade draws his legs even further apart. Through it all his erection doesn’t once flag. If anything the intensity of the sharp stretch only adds to his arousal, making him weak to the waves of sensation, painful or not. He closes his eyes and tries, desperately, not to let his eye succumb to the urge to grow wet. That, he doesn’t think he could handle that.    
  
It takes another minute, maybe longer, of Talia rolling her hips before she finally, amazingly, sinks all the way inside. Slade swears there is not an ounce of room left in his body, that damn toy having pushed all his organs aside.   
  
“So good for me, beloved,” Slade jolts when Talia skims a hand down his stomach. Every nerve of his body alight and on fire. The slightest touch seems monumentally more pointed than ever, all because of his current situation. It’s comical. He’d laugh about it if he wasn’t trying so hard not to make any wounded noise. “Are you going to be alright?”   
  
_ Yes, I haven’t been beheaded. I just have a grotesquely large cock in my ass-  _ Talia shifts her hips. The head of the toy presses up and drags across his prostate. The burst of sensation draws a wail from his mouth as pitiful as a kitten’s cry. He curses to regain some semblance of control, but even his frantic “fucks” come out breathy and high-pitched. Above him, Talia laughs.    
  
“Sensitive, aren’t you? Now I see why you were so interested. Do not worry, beloved, your humiliation will not last much longer.”   
  
Frankly, the second it started had been too long. Slade tilts his head and buries his face into his arm, glaring up at Talia with his own good eye. She smiles down at him with that perfect plush mouth and rolls her hips once more. The toy rubs deliciously against him, and he closes his eye, muffling the resulting groan into his skin. Above him, Talia wheezes out a soft moan, her side of the toy rocking back against her with just as much pressure.    
  
Two delicate hands press into the pillows beside his head. He looks up when he feels the dip, Talia’s dark hair slipping down her shoulders and against his chest as she leans close. When she is merely an inch away she whispers.    
  
“I am going to fuck you now.”   
  
And fuck him she does.    
  
With the resistance gone, his body having just adjusted enough to the stretch of the toy Talia no longer goes slowly. Digging her nails into the pillows beside him, she begins a rhythm that is as fast and unrelenting as her fighting. She doesn’t stab into him errantly nor erratically, every movement controlled with a dancer’s finesse. If this were a normal evening for them, Slade would have simply watched her ride him. Admired the way she took what she wanted without hesitation, and, obviously, how her body moved with each slide of her hips.    
  
Now of course, well, Slade can barely keep a coherent thought. Talia’s merciless. She drives against his prostate with unwavering desperation, eagerly watching his face every time her hips slap against his thighs. Hungrily devouring every startled groan and yelp with a furious kiss of teeth he can’t keep up with. She licks into his open mouth, where he fights and summarily loses. Back arching off the plethora of pillows beneath him until he slams against her chest. Mewling into his mouth, she draws away, to press her forehead to his, breath pitching loudly as her own toy fucks itself deeper inside her.    
  
The chains rattle above his head. Slade tries, pathetically, to bring his hands down, desperate to grab at Talia’s waist, her arms, anything. Who knew he would need something to ground him? Every time he tries to grab onto the bed frame Talia pulls the toy out completely only to slam it back inside. His hands slip and he’s forced to lie there against the pillows, fingers tingling from the amount of sensation racing across his nerves.    
  
He feels as though he has been forced into fire and held against the molten coals. Talia, pulling him from the flames with every kisses to his slack mouth, only to drag him back down into the pit again. He is breathless, heart hammering in his chest. He has never known such overwhelming painful pleasure it threatens to drown him. Talia easily orchestrates his and her own building orgasm, driving Slade into the cresting wave as it grows and crashes in his gut.   
  
It ends far too soon than Slade would have liked. When he comes, Talia forces the toy in him so hard his toes curl hard enough the muscles in his legs spasm. He chokes on a gasp, cock throbbing against his stomach before it shoots ropes of cum across his abdomen. He trembles through it, spitting curses in English and German before he starts mumbling in Hindi, tongue too thick to pronounce anything clearly. His entire body acting on its own accord, different muscles twitching and throbbing as he tries, in vain to catch his breath.    
  
The aftershocks are immense. He cums more than he thought was possible, egged on by the fact Talia’s assault on his prostate doesn’t stop when he finishes. Instead, the moment he climaxes, she stays buried deep inside him, frantically grinding against him as she rubs herself off. Slade watches, face red, body limp, as Talia closes her wet eyes and pants frantically.    
  
She comes with a shake that forces her to collapse atop him, whining out kittenish half-words, with a few scant tears dripping down her cheeks and onto his skin.    
  
They remain that way for a long time. Until their breathing evens out together and the final portion of muscle twinges start to fade into a full-body soreness. Even with his enhanced healing, Slade doesn’t know if that will help his body recover too fast after such a hard fuck. Hopes it doesn’t, especially with how lax and pliant his body has become.    
  
When Talia pushes herself away, the only thing amiss is the light blush on her cheeks and Slade’s cum smeared across her stomach. Her hair is still perfect, her mouth slightly swollen from the ferocity of her kisses is nothing too obvious. She smiles down at him, pushing her hair back.    
  
“Does that satisfy your curiosity, beloved?”   
  
Slade stares up at her. After a moment, the only sound passing between them being the flickering of the candles and the distant howl of the wind, he gives a soft, hoarse laugh.    
  
“On the contrary, I think you’ve only made it worse.”


End file.
